


The Heart is a Lonely Hunter

by Veelez (Hyela)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 22:54:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/667385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyela/pseuds/Veelez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is a mute. Allison likes the silence. Together, they meet in the woods to be away from human noises.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Heart is a Lonely Hunter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [homoeroticismforthewin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/homoeroticismforthewin/gifts).



> Stiles/Allison  
> Rated PG for some animal’s death.  
> Alternative Universe. Titled borrowed from the book of the same name, but aside from that and Stiles’ muteness, nothing in common.

_Owing to the fact he was a mute_  
 _They were able to give him all the qualities_  
 _They wanted him to have._  
~Carson McCullers, The Heart is a Lonely Hunter

  
In town, people talked about Stiles Stilinski. They didn’t say anything bad or mean, but they rarely ever said anything truthful or meaningful at all either. No one had a stable definition for Stiles. One day he was “that little hyperactive kid,” the next he would be “that sweet little mute, the sheriff’s son.” Obviously, Stiles couldn’t say anything in response. He didn’t even bother to write what he thought. He just carried around his silences with him.

  
People also talked about Allison Argent. Allison wasn’t mute, but she didn’t talk a lot either. In fact, she seemed to flee noisy places and noisy people. She scorned at conversations and one was lucky to get a shrug out of her if they asked a personal question. She was deemed a weirdo, a little traumatized adolescent, the one without a tongue. No wonder the girl got along just fine with the mute. He couldn’t say anything to her, or about her. She rejoiced in his silences and they didn’t judge one another.

  
Both teenagers had also in common a dead mother and an overworked, sorrowful father. They might as well had been brother and sister. But they were not, and didn’t think of each other as such either. If they had to define their relationship, Allison would use the words ‘partner hunters’. And effectively, they did hunt. Rabbits, birds, dears... anything they could find.

  
Hunting was the perfect activity for them, because not only did it make them feel useful, it also allowed them to spend a lot of time on the outdoors, by themselves, with only the silences and the sounds of the wood without arising much suspicions. Sometimes, they would just set a few traps, and then, instead of going immediately back home, they would simply sit around, under a tree or in it. They would not share a thought, barely a look. They would just content themselves with the other’s presence. It was calm, soothing. It was more than enough.

  
One day, they saw a bear. It was an enormous brown beast, one that could have slashed a human’s throat with its claws, keeping them from screaming. And from staying alive. It had obviously fought in the near past, what with the wounds still healing on its face, but for now it seemed at peace, relaxing, feasting on what it somehow had preyed upon: a squirrel.

  
Allison had not arched her bow and Stiles had not raised his carabin. Killing a bear had to be against some sort of law, even though the fur, teeth and organs were worth a lot. However, it was not what primarily stopped them. They simply felt a kind of companionship for the animal, who was a hunter, just like them. Bears were omnivorous, but they could survive on vegetation, fruits, insects and fish. Yet, here was this big teddy bear, plunging its muzzle in the guts of a little rodent to tear it further apart. It did not do so out of pleasure, not really. It did so because it could. The squirrel was probably idiotically standing there, unguarded. So, the bear took it and now meticulously nipped at it, getting its lot of proteins. It seemed to rejoice not in the fact that it killed something, but at the task at hands, the fact of having to do something, like it was soothed by it. Perhaps it was only a projection, though.

  
Both teenagers stood there at a respectful distance, staring at the bear until it has finished its meal. Then, it looked up at them. For a moment, Allison tensed next to Stiles, her left hand gripping her bow and her right one trembling, almost making a move to go get an arrow. She did nothing but watch. Stiles did not move at all. He was perfectly immobile, zero tension transpiring through his face. He took Allison’s hand, trying to share a bit of that unworried mood with her. It worked to an extent, and soon, she was just as calm as he was.

  
The bear sniffed the air, still looking at them, considering them, judging them maybe. It lasted a while, no party willing to make the first move. Then the animal made a weird movement of the head, a bit like a nod or a salute, stood on all fours, and went on its way, trotting peacefully like it had all the time in the world. Such confidence, such trust, and even if it was deliberate stupidity, it was moving in a way that neither Stiles or Allison could have explained. The fact that the whole scene happened bathed in nature’s chirping without a word uttered was even better. Having had the privilege to share that experience with a close friend, that was fantastic.

  
Stiles half turned towards Allison and let a big dopey smile stretch his lips. Allison mirrored him and, perhaps under the spell of the moment, or perhaps out of the arms of inhibition, she laughed, breaking the foundation of their present happiness. Immediately, her hand left Stiles and went up to her mouth, regret evident in her eyes. But Stiles’s own weren’t reproachful at all. The boy’s smile was still illuminating his face. He shrugs, not bothered by the clear sound that resonated through the woods, as if it was meant, anyway, to be part of nature’s melody.

  
As they looked at each other in contentment, Allison used her free hand, the one that wasn’t still gripping her bow, to caress Stiles’s cheek in a sudden moment of appreciation. In turn, Stiles leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead, a simple little kiss that was still smashing by the force of the love behind it. They stared, timidly, then hands found each other again, and they went on their way, the hunting afternoon aborted, as if they had all the time in the world. In the wordless hour, away from human noises and the aggressing sound of alacrity, maybe they did.


End file.
